


The Ten-Shilling Bride

by Calleva



Series: The Steapa Chronicles [3]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:49:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25688350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calleva/pseuds/Calleva
Summary: Winchester is thronging with noblemen, arriving for the Witan. Meanwhile Steapa is planning his wedding to Editha who is getting help and advice from Aelswith and Mildrith.  All Editha wants to do is go home to Fifhaden where their new hall is being built.But nothing ever goes smoothly and there are surprises in store, some bad, some not so.......This follows from 'Harvest Moon' and 'The Road Home'.
Relationships: Steapa (The Last Kingdom)/Other(s)
Series: The Steapa Chronicles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870489
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	The Ten-Shilling Bride

__________________________

_Winchester_

As far as inns went, the Two Cranes wasn't bad, the food was good and she had only twice been mistaken for a prostitute. 

Editha counted her blessings. Two weeks ago she had been living as a drudge on a filthy farm belonging to her father and brothers. They disappeared for hours at a time to the field 'working' but it was Editha who hoed, planted and gathered while they ate, drank and made excuses. It became obvious that her mother had died of overwork. For eighteen years Editha had lived with the idea that most women's' lives were drudgery and that ordinary people lived like pigs on a midden. 

A week later she had ridden to Wintanceaster with a magnificent but half-broken colt, intending to present it to King Alfred. It was the only way she could save its life after it had bitten and kicked all her menfolk. Her father had won it in a gambling game with a neighbour who had almost certainly stolen it. It was a beautiful but spirited creature and Editha had been slowly gaining its trust. Her patience was set back by her family's clumsy, brutal and failed attempts to ride it. "Stupid horse is wild and fit only for dog food. Cost me nothing. Catch it, Editha and I'll sort it out later." Her father spat on the ground and headed indoors.  
"We get to kill it and then you can cut it up." Said one of her brothers gleefully.

At dawn the next day while the others were still snoring, Editha crept out of the homestead and caught the dappled horse. She saddled her father's sturdy white garron and, leading the huge colt behind her, rode to the capital. Kings, she knew, lived in great grandeur and liked receiving homage. 

Wintanceaster had been getting ready for the Michaelmas fair and she found the royal stable yard empty. As she was trying to get Jericho stabled, something spooked him and he plunged and yelled as if the place was on fire. That was how she met Steapa, who had heard the tumult and come to help her. 

He took her to the fair on the following day and then brought her home, leaving the dappled colt safe behind in the king's stables. She had felt a rising embarassment as they turned into the farmstead. She hadn't noticed before how messy and neglected it was, with a rotting hand plough just lying in the muddy grass alongside rusting axes blunted by rain and overuse. This was of course nothing compared to the state of the actual house. Cringing, she had excused herself to put the garron away while the king's bodyguard insisted on entering the house and speaking to her father. Whatever was said between them, it had ended up with Steapa giving him ten shillings for the possession of his daughter. It was likely not much of a discussion - her father had been missing the comforts of the marriage bed and would no doubt use the money to buy a slave woman. Editha felt guilty that her newly-won happiness could be at the cost of some other woman's peace of mind. 

After buying her, Steapa put her on his horse and rode to inspect his other new property at Fifhaden. It had been a gift from Lord Uhtred who considered it too small. Still, five hundred acres looked sizeable to Editha and it was on rising ground with the River Kennet flowing through. They had been gazing down at the river when Steapa had shyly asked her to marry him. With that settled, he began to organise the building of his hall. There were three slave families on the land who would chop and shape the logs and build a wide palisade around. During any Viking attacks, the families would seek shelter behind the palisade with their animals and portable goods.  
"We'll need a lot of wood" noted Editha. Steapa nodded. "There will be enough - not much has been done here." He was a man of few words but Editha eventually understood that the woodlands would be managed so trees would not be completely cleared and in time would regrow. There would be cover for wild boar and plenty of foraging for pigs.  
"You seem to have planned this already."  
He nodded, serious, "I used to think about what I'd do," He shot her a tentative smile "You could have a maid - if no one here suits, we will get one in Wintanceaster."  
They stayed a couple of nights, making themselves a compartment in the longhouse which housed the slave families. "I'm afraid it will be uncomfortable until we have our own hall." Steapa assured her. Editha noted the shabby but clean curtain that gave them privacy and the two neat piles of straw for sleeping, one each, until they were wed. It was a world away from the rags she had slept on in her father's house. Many times she had slept outside rather than contend with the snoring, farting and other noises that disturbed her sleep.

___________________________ 

It had only been a couple of weeks, but there was plenty for Editha to muse on while Steapa was out, guarding the king. "Is it dangerous?" She had asked, "No. I stand behind him while he conducts his business. Not hard. I'd rather be fighting."  
"Killing Danes," she remembered.  
"Yes."

He came to the Two Cranes on the first evening and at once Editha could see he was in a good mood. "Alfred says we can marry." He said with a smile. "And I have brought you some decorations for our hall!"

Editha looked silently down at the array of objects he placed in front of her. Old, bent and rusty swords and a couple of splintered shields. She had imagined cloth woven in cheerful colours and wolf hides to keep out any draughts. He rarely smiled but was now beaming at her like a child expecting praise.  
"That's lovely, dear." She tried to hide her dismay. It was his hall after all and if he wanted to have battered weapons on display, that was for him to decide, not his ten-shilling bride. His smile began to fade as he scanned her face, "I'll give them a clean and they'll be shiny and like new!" She said cheerily, hoping that there wasn't some honour custom of bloodstains and tarnish.  
"Yes, they will clean up well. Look lovely."  
"And if the Norsemen visit we can grab them off the walls - useful..."  
Steapa laughed, "These are old with not much use left in them. Don't worry, I'll have plenty of good weapons. Those shields have seen better days - but can be rubbed down and painted. Add some colour, yes?"  
Editha nodded "Yes."

Decorations really didn't matter that much - she would be involved with the horse breeding, and spending most of her time outside.

"So Alfred agrees to you marrying? What if he'd said no?"  
He sighed and shifted, "You would have stayed at Fifhaden in any case, just not as my wife. You would have your own chamber." He was blushing slightly.  
"So what did he say?"  
" "What kind of person is she?"" Steapa quoted, "" Is she of good character? Does she honour God and live a moral life?""  
"And so you told him you have no idea, that we only met two weeks ago and you bought me from my father for ten shillings."  
Steapa looked shocked, "I did not! I told him you were a gentle girl full of goodness and that I would like to present you to him."  
"I look terrible. He will change his mind." She ruffled her shorn locks and pulled at the coarse cloth of her tunic. She had been wearing trews when he first met her and he had thought she was a boy.  
"I will buy you something to wear." 

She linked her arm through his as they went down the steps to the tavern below, "You're just not used to having your own woman," She twinkled, "just as I am not used to being a wife. Perhaps I will start a shoe collection...."  
"Why would anyone want more than a pair of shoes and a pair of boots?"  
"You have a lot to learn, but take heart. I prefer horses and dogs to finery."  
"That's good,"  
"But... I could get used to having lots of pretty clothes I suppose."  
At his look of faint alarm she pressed her head against the reassuring bulk of his arm, "Only teasing..."  
"Do you tease often?"  
"That was my first time. I have a feeling I will come to like it though." She winked at him, but seeing the look on his face, "But only ever as fun. And you may tease me back!"

"So tell me about King Alfred," Editha was curious about the man who would rule over the Angelcynn. The nights were getting cooler and they were glad of a seat near the tavern's fire. Steapa pulled at his bread thoughtfully, "What do you want to know?"  
"Well I imagine him to be tall and strong, a bit like yourself. The victor of Ethandun, a warrior king who is yet wise. With thick blond curls and blue eyes and wearing a jewelled crown."  
"The king is more interested in his scrolls than being a warrior. His hair is dark and straight, and he has brown eyes. He looks nothing like me."  
"And he was interested only in my character. Did he ask if I was rich?"  
Steapa shook his head and smiled grimly. "We shouldn't discuss the king. You will have to see him for yourself."

__________________

A couple of days later, Editha found herself walking into the courtyard of the king's residence. It was easier to walk in shoes that fit - rather than her younger brother's cast offs - and she found she strode taller and with more confidence than at any time in her life. She had on a pale yellow dress with a cloak of deep teal that covered most of it. Wuna at the tavern had neatened her hair and softened it around her face. "The Lady Aelswith will want you for one of her ladies," She had said when she was done.

The courtyard had been set out by the Romans, a square open space with covered walkways around it. Steapa lingered, looking nervously around. A shabby figure in grey bustled towards them. "Father Beocca! This is my betrothed, Editha of Readingum."  
A smile creased the priest's kind face, "My congratulations to you both! Of course you will be married in the chapel here."  
"Editha gave a war horse to the king. I was wondering if I might present her to him."  
"Er, certainly. I'm sure he will want to meet her as you are part of his household. Maybe the lady Aelswith too...Don't be nervous my dear, people will be interested to meet you, the woman who conquered the king's greatest warrior."

It was in fact Alfred's consort that Editha met first. Entering from the courtyard, Editha found herself in a long corridor which seemed to pass around the edge of the interior. The lady Aelswith paid no attention to Fr Beocca or Steapa but graciously put out a hand to Editha. "Welcome to Wintanceaster," she said in her gentle voice, "and congratulations on your future marriage. Come, walk with me awhile. Gentlemen, find yourself some refreshments in the kitchen. I will not detain you long." So saying she grasped Editha's elbow and led her away, turning the corner and leading her down another dimly-lit corridor. They entered the chapel where the Lady Aelswith crossed herself and motioned for Editha to sit.  
"I hope you are not one of those people who makes no time for God,"  
Editha was aware that her eyes must have looked very wide as she took in the lovely carved statues, the delicately painted murals and the altar shining with silver and gold.  
"I am afraid I know very little, I must seem uncouth to a lady like yourself. But please know that it is not by my own wish, only that I have had little chance to learn."  
"Tell me about yourself," Aelswith sat close enough that Editha could inhale her scent of sweet herbs, and notice by the drape of her clothing that it was very finely woven. This lady smelled and looked different to anyone she had ever seen before, much less met. She found herself telling the Mercian noblewoman about her life on the farm and the many chores she had had to do. No, she had not been in the company of young men other than her brothers, and indeed she knew how to cook and mend, in addition to all the other duties she had to do on the farm. It occurred to her rather painfully that being a woman was not something she had really thought about. That she was one, of course, was something she accepted, but womanly skills weren't things she made especial time for.  
"It is usual," Lady Aelswith was saying in her gentle voice, "for a young bride to spend some time in reflection before she marries. I spent the final days of my girlhood in a nunnery, at prayer. Perhaps you might like to do something a little similar? Your future husband fights for God's cause, it should be something you believe in as well."

Steapa hadn't mentioned this aspect of his life, but if it meant a lot to him, then Editha would try to learn more.  
"So should I find a nunnery to stay in?"  
"I don't think that is necessary. You can take counsel from one of our godly priests who will prepare you for the sacrament. Where are you staying now?"  
"At the Two Cranes,"  
"The tavern? Why?" the lady was clearly shocked.  
"Steapa knows it and he could hardly take me to stay with him in the guard house."  
"You are alone there? In a room to yourself?"  
"Most of the time, yes. I mean we aren't married so of course we don't....." her voice tailed off as she fought for words, her cheeks turning a deeper pink.  
"Indeed..." Aelswith sounded almost relieved, "well it won't do for a young bride to be staying in a common tavern. You must stay with one of my friends in town, Lady Mildrith. She has had a difficult time of late, but I know she would be a great help to you. I'll speak with her."

She paused as the door creaked open and soft footfall sounded on the stone floor. Both ladies turned to see who had disturbed their conversation. A slight, slender man smiled at Aelswith as if he knew her well. Perhaps this was one of the godly priests spoken of. The poor man didn't look well, there were shadows under his eyes and he had a slightly yellow pallor. One gust of wind would blow him away.  
"My dear.... I will not disturb you, I have come to pray."  
"Not at all, lord King I should like to present my young companion to you. Editha who is to be married to Steapa."  
"Ah, yes, he spoke to me of it."

So this was Alfred! Editha composed herself so as not to be rude, but she was astonished at his appearance. He looked nothing like a great king, yet king he was, the simple circlet on his head confirmed it. She rose and gave a deep bow as Aelswith spoke "We have been speaking of godly things, young Editha is eager to know more." Editha noticed for the first time the steely note beneath Aelswith's gentle tone. This was a strong woman - the King of Wessex and his consort were the most powerful Saxons in the land. Appearances can be so deceptive.

"Indeed, then come with me. It is only right that I make a gift to you on your betrothal."  
A gift! The king wanted to give her a gift! Editha was almost giddy - if only her father could see her now, he who had valued her so little.

The lady Aelswith left her with the king who led her down another corridor to a rather better-lit chamber, its walls lined with many scrolls and volumes, some in rows, others in heaps.  
"Can you read?"  
"A little. A monastery gave lessons to the local children and I used to go, when my mother was alive."  
"I am glad to hear it. It is my dearest wish that all my people should read."  
"My father says I don't need to."  
"The scriptures must never be a closed book." He paused over a stack, flicked through some of the pile and retrieved a small volume. "Can you read this?"  
Editha squinted at the writing on the page, there was little ornament and a lot of words."It's a prayerbook - I think."  
"It's a psalter, the psalms and part of the Gospel of John. Take it and read it diligently. Remember that your king has asked this of you."  
Editha was trying not to look disappointed in the king's choice of gift when there was a knock at the door and Steapa appeared.

It was time for her to leave.

_________________

The Lady Mildrith's maid had made hearth cakes drizzled with honey and they were still warm when Editha and Steapa arrived. The little house was spotlessly clean and tidy. A workbox was the only object out of place, on the bench by the fire, next to a rumpled shirt. Steapa had had to bend slightly to get through the doorway and now looked out of place, standing in the centre of the room. "I'll leave you then," He said awkwardly and with a longing look at his betrothed, left.

Editha's heart lurched as his blue eyes had met hers. She longed to be in his arms, not having to wait with these kind ladies. 

Mildrith was a pretty woman with brown eyes and glorious auburn hair. Editha soon learned that her rather sombre expression was due to her failed marriage to the Lord Uhtred, the very person who had given Steapa Fifhaden. Father Beocca called each day to speak with Editha and she began to look forward to his visits. He was kindly and his gentle humour made instruction easy to follow, plus, the patient Northumbrian answered all her questions, however ignorant they sounded. 

After the many changes of the past few days, Editha found moments of peace in this household of two women and one cat. Mildrith showed her, by example as much as words, what the lady of a house should do. She and Edwina showed her how to work a loom and make decorative embroidery. There had never been time to learn all this even if Editha had wanted to. She was enchanted by the women's gentleness, how they spoke softly and were even gentle with the little cat, petting it as if it were a child. Edwina told Editha privately that Mildrith had borne a child but he had died. 'I hope my children will live' thought Editha to herself before realising that before there were children, she and Steapa would have to make them.

So far his expressions of tenderness had been restricted to a peck on the cheek followed by a light caress. It was clear the man was more at home on the battlefield than paying court to a woman. She was glad of it, glad that he wasn't a ladies' man and that he would be stolidly faithful to the vows he was shortly to take.

Editha wasn't used to thinking much about religious matters, while Mildrith seemed to have them always in mind. They went to early Mass before breaking their fast each day. Editha wasn't used to eating so much so it was not difficult for her. Hearing Mass was a little more of a challenge, because it was no longer a matter of shuffling impatiently while the priest mumbled at the other end of the church before everyone piled out. Her family's attendance at church was minimal and reluctant. They went each year to confession and communion and occasionally at other times if there was a funeral or a marriage, but that was it. However these women wanted to go to church, and were attentive to the ritual. Editha copied Mildrith every time she crossed herself or knelt. 

"Look what the king gave me, he wants me to read it." she said one morning after they had broken their fast. Mildrith scanned the little book "It's a psalter, a prayer book. You use it at different times of the day," she explained. "here, I'll show you."  
"That's a lot to do in between weaving, baking and mending," Editha mused, "not to mention brewing and organising others."  
"You'll get used to it. What a thoughtful gift of Alfred, but then he is like that. Not very practical of course but that is where the lady Aelswith comes in. You need to get her to like you."  
"I think she does. I must say I didn't realise how people who are not nuns or priests can be so religious. When the king offered me a gift I thought it would be something for my home."  
Mildrith noticed her wistful expression, "Why? What would you have in mind?"  
"Oh I don't know.... our hall isn't built yet. I don't know what kings give, but I would like to have something nice to hang on the walls." And Editha told her about the rusty weapons.  
"Bless him, he doesn't know any different, and many warriors do hang weapons on their walls, ones they've taken in battle, trophies from powerful foes. They feel more at home that way." The two women giggled softly together.

As the days passed by, Editha grew more confident. Here in Wintanceaster no one told her she was useless or stupid. She had met with the king and was staying with a gentlewoman who dined at the royal table, and they were all kind to her. Her existence would have been perfect if she wasn't missing Steapa so much. He had come to say a brief farewell as he was going back to Fifhaden to check on the building. Standing on the doorstep facing him in the street Editha realised they were almost always in company, never alone together. "I can't wait for us to be wed," She blurted as he made to leave. On instinct she reached her arms round him to stop him going and clung to him. His arms closed round her and he put his cheek against her hair. "'Twill not be for long." He squeezed her tightly and then drew back, afraid to hurt her. "I'm sorry, I'm too strong for my own good," He mumbled shyly.  
"Oh you can hold me as tightly as you wish and I will be happy because it's you." She said softly. He kissed her forehead and was gone.

________________

There was to be a gathering of the Witan and ealdormen came in from all round Mercia. It was decided that Steapa and Editha's marriage would take place the day before and that they should attend the evening's feast. Some of the ealdormen heard in advance and a few brought gifts. Steapa was a familiar face and it was an easy way to curry favour with Alfred, plus it never did any harm to have the big man on their side. 

She hadn't seen Steapa since he left for Fifhaden as he had some escort duties to perform. He would be back in the capital for his wedding and then he and Editha would move into a small house near the palace. This would be her home until their hall in Fifhaden was ready.

On the morning of the wedding Editha was dressed carefully by Mildrith and Edwina who had made a garland of cream and pale blue flowers for her hair. She wore a light blue dress with a cream cloak.  
"We must make you look your best, many people are arriving for the Witan and will see you." Said Mildrith sombrely.  
"The clothes are wonderful, I can't change my face - or my hair though."  
"You have lovely dark hair, and there's plenty of it so people will see that rather than the length. There, now you are ready for Wintanceaster!"

Edwina held out a small mirror for Editha to admire herself. She felt she was looking at the face of a stranger; the floral headband gave her an almost fairy-like quality. The flowers were sweet smelling, the scent blending with the rosewater which Mildrith had dabbed onto her. 

It was a short walk to the royal chapel and Editha walked carefully, avoiding ruts and mess and trying not to feel self-conscious. As they passed the Two Cranes she waved at the tavern staff and regulars standing outside to cheer her. Her work-roughened hands were hidden by a small posy of scented flowers which she occasionally held to her nose to keep the smells of the city away.

There were more people than usual around the royal hall where the Witan would be held. This was a time for ealdormen to get together, to establish alliances and to plot. Heads turned as she walked towards the chapel with Mildrith beside her, but she barely noticed - she was too excited to see Steapa after his absence. At the chapel door they came to a clutch of people and a woman with fair cropped hair and a large wooden cross round her neck stepped forward. "You must be Steapa's bride! How pretty you look. My name's Hild."  
Before Editha could reply, Mildrith greeted and embraced Hild. "I have missed you! You will attend the marriage - I hope?"  
"I should very much like to," Hild looked to Editha questioningly, but it was a polite formality, because anyone can attend a wedding. "Yes certainly, there will not be many there, it will be good to have you with us."  
Hild gave a quiet laugh "I do not think many of his friends would want to miss Steapa's wedding."

The door opened and Editha saw that the chapel was almost full and everyone was looking round at her. Then she saw Steapa and forgot to be nervous. He was in a deep blue tunic with contrasting embroidery round the neck and hem, his large sword in a new leather scabbard. He looked edgy and nervous but his eyes softened when he saw her.

So taken up with the joy of the day, Editha almost missed the slight tension that ran through Mildrith as they passed Lord Uhtred on the way to the altar where Father Beocca was waiting for them. What could have startled her? They reached the altar and Mildrith turned to join the onlookers while Editha found herself standing beside Steapa. She held her hand out next to his to be wrapped ceremoniously with three cords which would join them symbolically into man and wife.

More than one person thought back to a similar occasion in this place where a joyous young princess had married her handsome lord. But then the silken cords had become like iron bands shackling her to a brutish, vain and incompetent fool. However as Steapa was none of those things, it was reasonable to hope that this marriage would be long and happy. 

The ceremony ended with Fr Beocca saying a few words about the sacrament of marriage. He spoke warmly and from the heart and Editha recalled hearing that he himself had married not long ago. A brief scuffle broke out behind them and Editha was tempted to look over her shoulder to see what it was. In any case the disturbance seemed to be handled well and she heard the door open and a vaguely familiar voice in the distance and although faint, she thought she heard the words 'bride price'. Her heart froze with dread. The scuffle was very much in her mind as they were leaving and she took the first chance to enquire about it. One of Steapa's companions was standing at the door and assured her "He was just a drunk trying it on. We get all types here."  
"And he can't come back to annoy us?"  
"Don't worry, lady, he will not be allowed back inside. He's probably crawled off to the tavern."  
"I won't let him upset you," Steapa murmured in her ear, "just enjoy your day. I had all the gifts taken to our new house, we can look at them together later. First we have to get through the feast."  
"But surely that will be wonderful! How can you not want to dine at the King's table? I've been looking forward to it for days!"  
He gave an indulgent smile, "Maybe, if you have never been at one. But don't get too hopeful - he waters down the ale and with the crowd here, the food isn't likely to go far. I'd rather have a good meal in the tavern."  
Her face fell, but figured that she would be safe from any unwanted visitors in a crowded royal hall. 

Candles blazed on the walls as well as the long dining tables. Steapa and Editha were seated on one of the long tables running down the length of the hall. At the top, the King and his consort, and their family and chief ealdormen presided. In the candlelight, Alfred looked less unwell, thought Editha.  
"Is the king much of a horseman?" she asked Steapa "Only I assumed he would be, or I'd not have brought the colt."  
"He does lead his men into battle, but he rides more placid animals. Had you not brought the horse here, then we'd never have met." He speared a piece of meat from a central platter and put it on her trencher. "When do they bring in the rest of the food? It must be a splendid sight!"  
Steapa laughed briefly, "This is all you get, my lady, so eat up or starve. Have some bread. The royal ovens do produce a good loaf." He tore her a large piece and dropped it beside the meat. A serving girl poured her some ale. He was right, it was weak, but she was thirsty and glad of it.  
"Who are those people around the King?"  
"The lad is his son Edward, the young couple are his daughter Aethelflaed and her husband Aethelred. Then there's the lady Aelswith and Fr Beocca you know. The other men in brown are the king's chaplains. Lord Uhtred is his champion, you saw him before. I think the king wants him close because I am not to hand tonight. The lady in red is his lady, Gisela."  
Editha's eyes swept over the gathering to find Mildrith, Uhtred's first wife. She wondered how it would feel being in the same place as one's former love and his new woman. Mildrith was sitting with Hild and leaning into her conversation, away from the royal table - and Uhtred.  
"Who is that young man with the brown eyes that keeps staring at Mildrith? Is she going to marry him? I thought she was going to be a nun?"  
"That's young Odda," said Steapa dismissively, "and he won't marry her, she's too poor. Old Odda is her godfather." He indicated an elderly bald headed man with a deep scar that ran from his brow down the length of his face.  
"Why does the king eat something different? Is it a special soup with rare and costly ingredients?"  
"Not unless you consider barley expensive. He has broth, for his weak stomach. I told you, we can eat better at the tavern." He speared the last piece of fish and offered it to his new wife. She thought briefly and waved it away. "You have it, I'm going to try the spiced fruit bread." A platter of warm dessert bread baked with honey and dried fruit had appeared in front of her with a bowl of a yellowish sauce that also turned out to be sweet. "What would we do without eggs, milk and honey?" she mused, wishing the custard was a little warmer. Something nudged at her knee and she jumped, then realised it was one of the wolf hounds, begging for scraps. She patted it thoughtfully. "Sorry, I didn't leave any for you."  
"The dogs don't do very well at Alfred's table." Said her husband drily. 

Even weak ale can make people lightheaded eventually, and gradually the noise of talking and arguing increased, so it was a while before Editha realised something was wrong. There was a sudden commotion and a scruffy man ran towards the King. Steapa, unhesitating, rose to his feet and moved in the space behind the diners, towards the King, sword in his hand.  
"My lord, tis but a little thing, in your justice, 'ear me!"  
The intruder was clearly drunk on something stronger than weak ale, and he looked as if he'd been sleeping rough for several days - he probably stank as well. Editha's heart sank.  
"I want my bride price. My laff-ly dorter gone from my 'ome and no one now to tend the farm. Your man's got 'er, and all I ask is my dues." He began to cough with long racking sounds, a long stream of phlegm trailing from his mouth. Steapa, ignoring him, bent over Alfred and murmured something in his ear.  
"You were paid." Said the king icily, "now leave the place at once or I will have you arrested."  
"I'm 'er father, I should be sittin' at your table on this 'appy....."  
"Get him out."  
Steapa took Editha's father by his elbow and tried to lead him to the great doors. The older man struggled, swearing angrily as several guards stepped forward to help. Editha's face turned several shades redder and she wished she could become a figure in one of the wall paintings which decorated the hall. Uhtred got up from his seat and helped Steapa remove the drunken man. As he returned, he nodded towards Editha with a sympathetic half-smile, as if to say that he knew it was no fault of hers. Somehow it made her feel worse.

"Steapa, we must go, I can't face these people anymore."  
"Eat up, dear wife. Most people won't know who he was and he's been dealt with."  
"What happened to him?" Her eyes were round as she imagined direful punishments for those who disturbed the king at dinner.  
"He was given a piece of bread stuffed with meat and cheese and put out of the palace. He won't be back, the men explained to him what would happen if he does."  
"That was kind of them."  
"I saw to it." Steapa poured a thick blob of cooled custard onto his bread and ate it in a couple of bites. 

Perhaps she imagined it but people seemed to go out of their way to be kind to her. Hild and Mildrith stopped her as she left with Steapa to wish her well one more time. She smiled and tried to look grateful but her humiliation ran deep. Finally.... at last! .... they found themselves together in the little house that Steapa had taken for them. Inside, a pile of gifts awaited them. 

They were alone. At last. As if filling the space where shyness would rule, Editha went to the gifts and picked up a bundle of fur. "Oh look, this would make a good bedspread..."

He took it out of her hands and drew her to him. Her chin rested in his huge hand as he turned her face to him, gazing into her eyes. All thoughts of the pile of treasure left her as he bent down and kissed her mouth. His lips were gentle but steady. She closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of his skin. His arms went round her and she realised that she was no longer shy or afraid. The time was here at last, they were truly married, and here he was, flesh and blood, claiming her for his own. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

Afterwards she slept in his arms in the deep, deep repose of the marriage bed.

_______________

Editha had assumed that her life as a wife would start in earnest the following day. She had planned to prepare him a good breakfast and spend the rest of the day organising their new household. Instead she woke to find her husband standing over her with a tray. The smell of its contents made her feel suddenly hungry. "Something for you to eat, dear wife." he said and sat on the bed, watching her as she demolished flatbreads and honey.  
"I should be doing this for you," she remarked, sleepily pushing a lock of hair from her eye.  
"No. There's a maid coming later, Wuna's sister. If you don't like her you can get another one."

Editha found the idea of a maid very strange. She had been a skivvy for so long so having someone to do the chores was a novelty. She looked confused as he took her work-reddened hand and gazed into her eyes, "I don't want your hands to scrub anymore."  
"Well, what shall I do then?"  
In reply, he leaned forward and kissed her gently.

Their hall would eventually be a thing of beauty, but basic living quarters were ready by the time the winter had passed and Spring was bursting in the woodland. Just before they set out, news came to them that Editha's father had died. He had not returned home after the scene in Alfred's hall, and his body was finally discovered in a ditch by the road. It had taken a while to identify him.  
"I'm sorry, you must have some sadness, after all this time." Steapa said.  
"It's difficult, I wish I did. He never showed me the slightest affection. I'm sad that he died cold and alone, but it was his choice to come to Wintanceaster in the hope of getting more coin."  
"We will ride by the farm and see how things are. It's only right."  
"The land is only really fit for animal grazing. I don't know what will become of my brothers and I don't think my father would have left me anything."  
"Maybe not, but we should visit."

Editha's brothers were in the field by the road when they arrived. They appeared to be haggling with a stranger over a lump of worn wood in the shape of a hand plough.  
"We're selling up, moving to Lunden." Alfheard explained.  
"You're selling the farm?"  
"Much of it is rented but there's a bit that we own. We'd like to sell it but it's not very big on its own . We're going to be river traders."  
"But you have no experience of that!" Editha was astonished at the idea of her brothers doing any kind of work. Alfheard turned to her "I've always dreamed of being on the water. While that old man was alive I couldn't do anything, now I intend to, and Giflac is happy to come too."  
"How much would you want for the farm?" Steapa asked quietly. "Give me a sensible price and you have got your boat."  
To her surprise, the brothers didn't ask for a stupid price and very soon she and Steapa were in possession of more land. 

They returned to the farm a week later with a cart and tools. The house as it stood was of no value, but some of its timber was sound and he would take away what could be used.

"I'm not sure why you wanted this heap of stones," Editha said gazing at the derelict and empty place.  
"Nor am I really. Let's just say I felt sorry for those lads who were going to be stuck with a farm that couldn't pay. I'll hang onto the land because a future neighbour might want it and pay me good coin."  
Editha gave a little shrug "Sounds like a good idea."

She climbed from the cart and went into the house for the last time. There was a lingering scent of unwashed bodies and stale food. The feeling of foreboding, sadness, frustration was gone, as if the house was cleansed. "That table might do for our workers' huts - we'll salvage what we can. The stone tiles are worn but sound - I can reuse them, would save having to cut and shape new ones." He nudged the worn stone floor with his toe. "In fact, these are probably the best part of the house."

"This place must have been rather fancy," Steapa indicated the wood panels around the walls. "Not what you'd find in a peasant hut. It looks old. I wonder who built it?"  
He began hacking away at one of the panels. The wood was dry and came away easily. The next one splintered and was useless, but he worked methodically, laying what he wanted in one pile and making a bonfire heap with the rubbish. The second heap was rapidly getting higher.

Editha took a long metal hook and tugged at one of the floor's stone tiles. "This is not too difficult," She muttered as it came loose.  
"Only do what you can, don't tire yourself out." Steapa cautioned.  
But she had already wrenched three slabs free and was starting on the fourth.  
"Hey, there's something here....." She slowly lifted a half-rotten bag coated with damp soil. There was a crunching sound from within, as if it contained something metal.  
She carried the bag outside and laid it on the old table. "Someone has left a hoard!" She joked, "Three dozen rotten knives and a heap of bent spoons, all rusted. Some lazy slave who didn't fancy washing up after dinner."  
She gingerly parted the limp fabric which began to tear, revealing a glimmering beneath. Curiously, she pulled again and a shower of bright coins tumbled onto the dull wood of the table. Watching over her shoulder, Steapa reached into the pile and took a couple of coins to examine. "These look really old," He said thoughtfully.  
"I can't believe my father had hidden this! He spent everything he had on drink. It must always have been here."  
"How old is the house?"  
"I don't know - I'm sure he didn't build it."  
"Peasant huts don't usually have stone floors - I thought there was something unusual about this place. Perhaps the house was rebuilt several times over the floor and no one realised... One hears about hoards, left behind long ago by an ancient race. Maybe driven out by the giants who built the ring of stones in Wiltscir."  
"There must be a hundred pounds worth at least! Oh Steapa! What will we do? What of my brothers? Should some of it not go to them too?"  
"Well the hoard was placed long ago, before your father's time. But I agree, we will buy them a good boat for their trading. With the rest I can get some good horses for my stud... I'll have to relay these stones at our house in Fifhaden, and re-hide the rest!"  
"Your ten shilling bride has already brought you a profit! " Editha joked.

In response, Steapa pulled her against him and squeezed her roughly.  
"I have all the treasure I need, here! What good is the gold to me without you?"


End file.
